


Markings

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Platonic Female/Female Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: From a tumblr prompt: Daenerys meets Sansa and accidentally sees her scars from Ramsay.





	Markings

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a part of a larger Sansa/Daenerys fic. I hope you enjoy this little vignette! 
> 
> I'm myrish-lace-love on tumblr if you want to say hi! :)

Daenerys held the cloak up to the mirror. The three intertwined dragons embroidered on the back were a deep red against the black wool, and their eyes glittered with onyx stones. It was exquisite work, finer than she’d seen in Qarth, finer than any gift given to her as tribute before she came to Westeros.

She turned to Sansa, who was waiting expectantly for her reaction.  They’d clashed when she first arrived at Winterfell, but Daenerys had come to hold Sansa in high esteem. She ran the castle – there was no doubt on that score – and outshone Jon when it came to political and military strategy.

“I – thank you, Lady Sansa. I have never seen its equal.”

Sansa inclined her head. She had never bowed to Daenerys. “You’re welcome, Your Grace.” A tiny lined creased her forehead. “Wait – please, might I have it back? I think there’s a thread loose.”

Daenerys smiled. _A perfectionist, as always_. When she placed the cloak in Sansa’s arms the sleeve of Sansa’s dress rolled up. Daenerys saw shiny, pink, ugly scars criss-crossing the length of Sansa’s arm. She could not keep from gasping. She was thrown back to memories of Viserys striking her cheek, the sound like the crack of a whip. The fear of waking the dragon.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

“You see them,” Sansa finally said, steady, not even close to breaking. “You think they mean I am weak.”

Daenerys took a deep breath. She was hazarding a guess, but it came from years of experience. “I do know one thing for certain, Lady Sansa. I know that the man who did this to you is dead."

Sansa's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "It is not only Targaryens who take what is theirs by fire and blood."


End file.
